Riddled
By Killing Curse Eyes
Chapter 11: The Unchosen One
-o-
Harry excused herself from her friends and ran up to her dorm. She threw on her invisibility cloak and grabbed her Cleansweep 7. She made sure her and her broom were completely covered before she rushed to the third floor corridor. She skidded to a stop in front of the door. When she tried to open the door she found that it was unlocked. She opened the door and saw a Cerberus. She froze. She looked around the room and saw a harp. She wondered if perhaps music would help her get passed the beast and began to sing.
"Somewhere over the rainbow..." The Cerberus' heads began to droop. She continued singing as she made her way to the trap door and the Cerberus fell completely asleep.
Looking down she saw it was quite the drop and was glad she had brought her broom. She set her broom to float just under the opening of the trap door discarded her cloak and mounted it, all the while she sang so the beast would stay asleep. She descended on her broom and saw a large plant near the bottom of the room. She flew around it and landed on the ground. She saw a narrow passage way that was the only way through. She walked towards it and made her way through. She was immensely grateful that she had thought to bring her broom.
As she walked through the passage she started to hear a strange rustling sound. She paused momentarily and listened, but continued on. Eventually she saw a light at the end of the tunnel and ran towards it.
She was then in a large room full of flying... things. She saw a door across the room and ran towards it. She tried to open it but even the unlocking charm, alohomora, didn't work. She stopped trying and leaned against it to think. She eyed the strange flying things and eventually realized they were keys. They all looked the same to her, gold, shiny, and new. She continued to watch them until she saw one that stood out. It was silver, big and old looking. The blue wings looked battered, as if someone had already caught it. She knew this was the one. She mounted her broom and took off after the key. It was a rather disappointing chase as she caught it was ease. It had nothing on a snitch. She flew back to the door, slipped the key into the lock and turned. The key took flight once again as the lock clicked open.
She entered a dark room. There was no light to see, but she soldiered on any ways, clutching her broomstick tightly in her hands. A light suddenly turned on and Harry was met with the sight of a giant chess set. She faltered. She was horrible at chess. She bit her lip and looked around for another way across the room. The chess board spanned from one side of the room to the other, but she noticed the chess men were nowhere near large enough to reach the ceiling. She could fly over them. Once again grateful that she brought her broom, she mounted it and flew over the chess set, much to their ire. She dismounted at the door and tried to open it, but once again it wouldn't budge. The unlocking charm didn't work either. She had a feeling you needed to beat the chess set in order to unlock the door.
She had an idea though. If you can't unlock the door, get rid of it. She shot the disintegration curse at it and the door crumbled into dust. She smirked and walked into the next room. She sighed in relief when she saw that the next obstacle, a huge troll was already taken care of. She wrinkled her nose at the smell and marched forwards. She opened the next door and saw nothing malicious, just a set of bottles on a table. As she stepped through the threshold purple flames sprang up behind her. At the same instant black flames ignited across the room. She swore. She advanced towards the table and saw there was a riddle. She read it over and over again but couldn't figure out which bottles were safe to drink from, let alone which would take her through the black fire. She bit her lip once more and tried to think of an alternative. Eventually it occurred to her to try and will the fire away.
She closed her eyes and focused. She wanted the black flames to disappear. She wanted to leave the room. She wanted to go forward. She wanted, she wanted, she wanted. She opened her eyes and saw that the black flames were gone. She grinned and stepped through to the next and final room.
She saw Quirrell standing in front of a mirror.
"Ah, Harriet Potter." He drawled. "How nice of you to join us. I suppose you're here to stop me from taking the stone?"
"Yes, I am." It wasn't technically a lie. She did want to stop him from taking it. So she could take it herself instead.
"How amusing!" he cackled. "You, a first year, stop me?"
"I stopped your master as a baby."
"Please," Quirrell dismissed. "We all know that it was something your mother did. And guess what, Potter? Mummy's not here to save you!"
He sent a hex at her but she dodged. Unfortunately that left her vulnerable to his second spell which tied her up in ropes. Quirrell turned back to the mirror and mumbled something about seeing himself presenting the stone to his master, but not knowing how to get it.
"Do I break the mirror?" He wondered. "Master, tell me what to do!"
"Use the girl... Use the girl..." a high but weak voice rasped.
"Wh-what—who was that?" Harry stuttered.
"I'll show you..." Quirrell smirked and began unravelling his turban. He then turned so his back was facing Harry.
On the back of his head was a face.
"Voldemort!" Harry gasped.
"Yes..." Voldemort answered. "Quirrell, use the girl!"
Quirrell turned and grabbed Harry. He hissed in pain when his skin came in contact with hers and moved it so he was touching her clothing instead. He forced her in front of the mirror after he removed her bindings so he could move her more easily. She closed her eyes, but he cast some sort of spell that forced them open.
She looked in the mirror dumbly for a moment. Her expression was full of disbelief at what she was seeing. She saw herself smiling with Tom draped over her shoulders. He pulled something out of his pocket, kissed her cheek, and placed it in her own pocket. She felt a weight suddenly appear in her own pocket. She had the stone. What sort of mirror was this? She glanced at the bottom and saw strange, nonsensical words at the bottom.
"What do you see?" Voldemort demanded.
"I see myself and Tom. He's holding me." She answered honestly.
"Ah yes, my supposed grandson... What else do you see?"
"Nothing." Harry lied.
"You lie! You have the stone, don't you! Give it here!"
"No!"
"Give it here and you can live! You can join me even, be my right hand, my most faithful." Voldemort tried to bargain and an idea suddenly hit Harry.
"I'll give it to you on one condition. Wait, two." She began.
"Yes, yes. What do you want?" Voldemort was delighted, she could tell. She knew he wouldn't abide by the agreement, but then, neither would she.
"You won't kill me. And you'll tell me why you tried to in the first place." She said blankly.
"You mean Dumbledore never told you?" He cackled. "Oh, child, there was a prophecy you see... A prophecy predicting the approach of one who held the power to destroy me. My spy only heard the beginning, but it was enough to narrow it down to you and the Longbottom boy. Naturally, you had to be eliminated. Of course, you see why I can't uphold the rest of your terms, now, don't you?
"Quirrell! Kill the girl!"
"Yes, Master!" Quirrell pointed his wand at Harriet who pulled out her own.
"Ava—" Quirrell but was cut off by a green light striking him in the chest. He fell over, dead. Harry had beaten him to the punch, so to speak.
Harry was surprised it worked. She had never cast the killing curse successfully before. She watched as a shadow flew out of Quirrell's body and fled. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned to stare at the mirror once more.
"What is your secret...?" She wondered out loud.
"It's called the Mirror of Erised." An aged voice answered, startling Harry. She jumped and turned around; she muffled a growl of frustration when she saw it was Dumbledore. There was no way she could take the stone now.
"What does it do, sir?" she asked politely.
"It shows us our heart's greatest desire." Harry paused. Her greatest desire... was Tom?
"What about the stone? How was it used to protect it?"
"Ah, a rather ingenious idea I had. Only one who wanted the stone, but did not want to use it themselves could remove it from the mirror." The elderly man explained patiently.
"I see. Professor, I have some questions that I think you can answer." Harry told him.
"And I have some I feel only you can answer." Dumbledore replied in turn. "However this is not the place for this discussion. Come, let us go to my office."
"What about Quirrell?" The jade eyed witch asked as she followed after the man.
"We will leave him here for now. The stone?"
Harry handed it over reluctantly. She was quiet for the rest of the trip to the headmaster's office. She didn't have much to say and was pondering her heart's greatest desire. She knew she had a crush on Tom. But how could she not? He was handsome, talented, smart, and while uncaring and cold to most, he was gentle and kind to her. He taught her to protect herself and gave her a sense of self-worth. She knew she wanted him, but for it to be what she wanted most? That made her really wonder how deep her feelings really went.
"We're here." The headmaster interrupted her stream of thought. She followed him past the gargoyle and up into his office. It was full of miscellaneous instruments and portraits of the former headmasters and mistresses hung on the wall. Dumbledore took a seat behind the desk in the centre of the room and offered Harry a seat in front of it.
Harry sat down hesitantly and stared at the headmaster.
"The prophecy. Why didn't you tell me about it?" she asked.
"For many reasons, but first and foremost because it does not refer to you." Dumbledore answered.
"What do you mean? Voldemort said—"
"I am sure Voldemort believed the prophecy referred to you, but I am aware he only heard the first few lines."
"Yeah, and they described me or Longbottom. So he went after me- how am I not the subject of the prophecy?"
"Because had he listened longer he would have found that the prophecy refers to a boy."
Harry was silent for a long moment.
"So a prophecy, that doesn't even refer to me, ruined my life? My parents were killed for nothing?!" She began with but a whisper, but finished with a roar.
"Not for nothing. For you." Dumbledore countered.
"They died for a prophecy that doesn't even refer to their child!" Harry screamed. "They died for no reason! Why did he only hear part of the prophecy? Why couldn't his spy have told him it referred to a boy!?"
Dumbledore remained silent while Harry ranted. Eventually he spoke up. "That is enough. You should be relieved the prophecy does not speak of you."
"Why? Why should I be relieved? Voldemort tried to kill me any ways! He thinks it's about me, and he'll kill me for that!" Harry cried.
"Because the burden to kill him is not on your shoulders." Dumbledore replied. "You don't have to worry about defeating him. When he returns, you can be hidden and protected. And then, where he least expects it, we can strike."
"So I'm a decoy now?!" she shrieked.
"The fact that you got involved is a tragedy, however we must make the best of it so we can defeat him."
"Shut up, old man. I don't care. I hate you." Harry whispered.
"I'm sorry to hear that, dear girl." Dumbledore replied, his voice full of regret.
"Don't call me dear."
"I apologize. I won't do it again, Harriet."
"What's the prophecy? I think you at least owe me that much." Harry demanded softly.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea—"
"My life was ruined by this prophecy! I have the right to hear it!" she interrupted fiercely.
"... Very well." Dumbledore stood walked to a cupboard. He opened it and retrieved what, to Harry, appeared to be a fancy looking bowl. He took his wand and placed it at his temple. He pulled a silvery looking substance out of his head and placed it in the bowl.
"I don't understand—"
"This is a pensieve. Once can place memories inside it and view them once again." Dumbledore explained.
He prodded the surface of the pensieve and a figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind the glasses perched on her nose. She was vaguely familiar. The woman spoke in a harsh, hoarse tone.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal, but he shall have a power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."
Harry was quiet for a moment. "That woman—"
"Is our very own Professor Sybil Trelawney." Dumbledore told her. "The prophecy was given to me during her interview for the position as Divination professor."
"But, what about the marked as an equal part? Longbottom hasn't been marked. I have, though."
"Just because it hasn't happened yet, does not mean it will not happen. And just because you have a scar from him..."
"I see." Harry murmured. "Thank you for sharing this with me. I- I'm sorry I shouted at you professor. It was rude of me."
"It is also completely understandable, Harriet."
"Thank you, sir."
"I must implore that you do not share this information with anyone else. Only a select few people are aware of the existence of the prophecy, let alone what it says."
"Of course, professor." Harry lied. She stood up to leave.
"Just one more thing, Harriet." Dumbledore stopped her. "What exactly happened to Quirrell?"
Harry took a deep breath. "I don't know, professor. Voldemort left his body and he just dropped dead."
"I wonder why Voldemort would suddenly leave as he did..." Dumbledore murmured to himself.
"Perhaps he realized you were coming, Professor." Harry suggested. "Perhaps he realized he would be no chance for you in the state he was in."
"Perhaps, Harriet. Perhaps."
"Professor... I have another question. One that's slightly off topic." Harriet began.
"Go ahead, Harriet. I will answer your question to the best of my ability." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"I heard you were the one who placed me with my relatives. Does this mean you have the power to remove me from their care as well?" she asked.
Dumbledore looked at her gravely. "I'm afraid it's necessary that you stay there."
"Why? They're horrible to me. I slept in a cupboard under the stairs until I was nine!" She cried.
"Yes, but there are wards to protect you from Voldemort around that house. They rely on the sacrifice your mother made for you and the blood you share with your aunt and cousin." Dumbledore explained. "The protection will not last if you don't spend at least a couple weeks there each summer to recharge the wards."
"So the reason it hurt Quirrell to touch me was because of this protection? And I only need to spend a few weeks there?" Harriet asked. That was better than a whole summer, at least. Though she was a bit angry that she had to stay at all. Who was he to decide where she lived? There were other ways to protect her from Voldemort, she was sure. But for now she'd play the good little girl she was supposed to be.
"That is correct." Dumbledore nodded.
"Does the protection really justify what my aunt and uncle do to me?" Harry asked one last time, wanting to test how he felt about the way she was treated.
"Justify it? No." He answered. "But is it a necessary evil? I think so. They don't physically or sexually abuse you, do they?"
"No." Harry grudgingly admitted. Only that once, and even then Petunia had been horrified by her husband's actions.
"Then it is something you can tolerate, for the greater good."
For the greater good, her arse, Harry thought bitterly, but smiled and nodded to Dumbledore.
-x-
Harry spent the rest of her time at Hogwarts subdued. Even Hank brought her little comfort. Pansy, Hermione and the quidditch team were all worried about her, but didn't push her to explain what was bothering her. She barely even wrote to Tom, only telling him she had important information that she would only share with him in person. She ignored the rest of his messages. Between the way she was feeling about what she had learned and what she saw in the Mirror of Erised, she really wasn't looking forward to talking to him. She understood he was essentially the Dark Lord, and that Neville Longbottom, of all people, was prophesised to kill him. She could not allow that to happen.
She observed Neville a lot over the last few weeks at school and didn't see anything special. He seemed to be a mediocre wizard, if a bit shy, though he hid it well. Harry wasn't sure what to make of him. Did he already have special training? Was he going to receive it if not? Was he pretending to be mediocre? She would expect the prophesised vanquisher of Tom to be more like him—a genius, charismatic, talented with magic, driven. But Neville was none of those things.
She and her teammates won the final quidditch game against Hufflepuff, securing the quidditch cup for Slytherin. The game had been relatively hort as Harry caught the snitch within twenty minutes. The score at the end was one-fifty to zero. Harry did not participate in the party, instead opting to lay in her bed in her dorm. Pansy tried to convince her to come to the party, but was unable to.
Harry only came out of her funk when they received their grades. Harry was top of the class with Hermione a close second behind her. Neville Longbottom stole third place and Pansy fell towards the upper end of the middle. Harry wasn't surprised at any of the rankings. She had a feeling Neville had some sort of tutor from a young age to help prepare him for his eventual fight with Voldemort, and even with that tutoring he was still mediocre enough to be beaten by a studious muggleborn and Harry.
After the debacle in the forest Draco Malfoy wrote to his father about his detention and his father was horrified that first years were taken into the forbidden forest when something unknown had been hunting unicorns. It wasn't Hagrid who got in trouble though. It was the administration that had assigned the detention that did, meaning Professor McGonagall. She claimed it was a mix up and seventh years who had detention were supposed to be the ones to go into the forest, but the board argued that even seventh years shouldn't have been sent out against their will. In the end she was put on probation and removed as deputy headmistress. It was unclear who would be taking her place, but the Slytherins all hoped it was Snape.
The train ride back to London was uneventful. Hank spent the ride in her kennel, or "box" as Harry called it. Pansy spent it gushing over Draco and complaining about Daphne Greengrass and Hermione spent it humouring her. Harry spent it not paying attention to either of them, too deep in her thoughts. She would occasionally nod or hum in agreement at the right places, but otherwise stayed out of it.
When they finally arrived at the station Harry gave her friends a half-hearted good bye and crossed through to the muggle side. She scanned the crowd and found her aunt and uncle waiting for her. She slowly walked over to them, pulling her feather light charmed trunk behind her with one hand and carrying Hank's box with the other.
"What is that?" Her aunt sniffed.
"A dog." Harry answered. "Her name is Hank. She was a present. She will stay in my room except for when I put her out to... do her business."
"Fine." Her aunt agreed. "Your... friend spoke with us. He will be picking you up on your birthday to spend the rest of the holidays with him."
Harry smiled. She looked forward to that. She followed her relatives to the car and got in after placing her trunk in the boot. They rode in silence.
-x-
The time leading up to her birthday passed slowly. Harry spent most of her time doing chores for the Dursleys, doing her summer homework, and cuddling with Hank when she had free time. Her homework was rather easy. She completed most of her essays without even cracking open a book.
After Harry finished her chores for the day in the weeks leading up to her birthday she would take Hank for a walk. She often brought her journal with her and sat in her and Tom's spot writing to him with Hank cuddled close to her.
She had begun to talk to Tom again after she returned home. They didn't speak of anything important, but Harry gradually grew more comfortable talking to him after realizing he was what she desired most. She told him nothing of her escapade with the philosopher's stone, choosing to wait until she could tell him the full story in person. Instead they talked about how she and her fellow students did at school, and they spoke of what they'd do together on her birthday.
They were going to have a party—Harry's first birthday party ever. There would be cake, presents, and she could invite as many friends as she wanted. The Leaky Cauldron would be catering it, and Harry could decorate the main area of their apartment however she wished. She wasn't sure what she'd do about decorating, but she planned to just invite Hermione and Pansy. She wasn't close enough to anyone else to invite them to her birthday. She wanted it to be special, and so only special people like her friends and Tom could be there.
Dudley, who didn't know where she really had been going to school, taunted her about going to a special boarding school for "slow" kids. It would appear that her aunt and uncle spread that story based on her poor grades from primary school. She resented the fact that she hadn't cared enough to do well in school, but in the end figured her relatives could have come up with something much worse, like her attending a school for the criminally insane.
As it crept closer to her birthday she grew more and more excited. The Dursleys kept her busy cleaning the day before it as they had an important dinner with some big wig and his wife. Harry didn't care enough to pay attention to what they did exactly, but she thought their name was the Masons. It didn't affect her as Tom would be picking her up in the morning and they wouldn't be coming until dinner.
She went to bed that night with a smile on her face. Soon, she'd be with Tom, just as her heart desired.
-o-
AN: Well, what do you think? Was anyone surprised?
A big thank you to nemesisswan for their concrit on several chapters. You rock!
I love you guys.
Best,
Eliza
Edited October 22 2015
